Fate
by XxFallenAngel428xX
Summary: England sees America in pain and goes to his house when he misses a meeting. T for character death. Not as much romance as I would hope,but UsUk refered, tradgedy, hurt/comfort,drama,ANGST, and whatever else you can think of... Oneshot.


**I wrote this with a prompt by TearStainedAngel24. I apologize prematurely for this. I suck at angst… but I discovered that writing angst is actually fun… 0.o**

**Disclaimer; I own nothing. Not even the prompt. DX**

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The emerald-eyed man saw the sapphire-eyed one's pain. He couldn't hide it. Every time he moved he winced. Every time he laughed, which wasn't often anymore, tears were brought to his eyes, bitten back in spite of him. He worries. The sapphire-eyed blond says he worries too much. The emerald-eyed blond knows better. He sees me surrounding him with the worst of all auras.

He calls the taller male after the meeting.

"Are you OK?" he asks, worry evident on his face and his voice, despite the sapphire-eyed American not able to see him.

"Bro, I'm always OK… but I guess my economy's really getting to me…" the other said, starting out cheery and all pep, but it dropped after the main part of the sentence, nothing but what sounded like a weary young man tired of the same thing.

"I think you should see a doctor, Alfred. Or at least let Matthew take a look at you." The former said. He was concerned about his lover and former colony.

"No! Er, I mean, no, I'm fine… seriously… I promise you, I'll be fine." Alfred argued, uncertainty lining his voice like poison in blood; there, but not able to pick up before it's too late. "Love you, Artie."

"Sure, you better be fine. And I love you, too, git." Arthur put the old phone back on its receiver, contemplating something; an idea that he thought of before he said that the American should go to a doctor.

Call Canada and have him check out America, regardless of his protests.

At last, the Englishman decided to only do that if the sapphire-eyed man misses a meeting. He mustn't need to wait long. The strings of I am pulling apart everything that means security and happiness to the American and Brit.

The next day, the blond German is in charge of the meeting, taking over for a spunky American gone missing. No one has noticed this, but Canada wasn't there either. Arthur had intended to talk to the younger twin about his brother's condition. He gives up on waiting, cursing me silently, and walks out of the building during break.

He goes straight to Alfred's house, sure that this is where both of the siblings are. He knows the key spot, under the matt, and lets himself in. He goes to the living room and finds the brothers arguing.

"Al, just take your shirt off, please." Arthur heard Canada's soft voice urging America to do as he asked.

"Mattie, I'm fine! Nothing's wrong, I'm alright! Go to the meeting!" Alfred's voice fought back. He wasn't wearing his bomber jacket.

England walks over to the brothers, behind Alfred, and puts a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the fact that he can see the black aura surrounding America's torso. I swarm around his hand, trying to decipher weather or not he's part of the plan. I regarded him as a nation, swirling around his fingers. I leave the British man be, going back to looming around America's torso, aware of anything, ignoring everything.

America jumps, that causing a wince, that enforcing the worry coursing through Matthew and Arthurs' bodies. America whimpers slightly, unaware of it escaping his own lips, sitting down on the couch. "Whatever. You can give me a checkup. But you won't find anything. I'm fine."

He sits up straight, pulling his shirt off, revealing sun-kissed, fine-toned skin pulled tight in a grimace unshown upon his face. Small scares and burns decorating his chest, stomach, and back; all dwarfed by the gash in his back still left from the Civil War. Canada goes over to a small bag off to the side to get some medical supplies. He comes back with a stethoscope, blood pressure taker, and wearing a doctor's coat. He's got gloves on, and starts by lightly placing the sensory end over Alfred's heart. Matthew's skin was so pale compared to his older brother's. He moves the stethoscope over and around a little. At one point, he puts it about two ribs above where the fateful aura that was only a slimmer of me was most concentrated. A flash of fear flashed in Alfred's eyes, his fists clenched out of pain.

Then something went wrong. According to plan, but to the nation personifications, it was terribly wrong. Matthew accidentally pressed on the rib.

The rib that happened to have been broken about a week ago.

I drew away, leaving nothing but my strings behind knowing how the end plays out, in search for my inevitable next victim.

Alfred shoots up, causing the rib to dig deeper into the lung, finally piercing it, allowing blood to gush into the organ. He coughs, sure that he screwed up. His hand drew away, faded red splattering the knuckles. His sapphire eyes widen in horror, he coughs again. Arthur runs over, already in tears. "Bloody hell, Alfred… What happened?"

"Nothing… I'll live. It's just a bruise." Alfred croaked, smiling weakly at his lover.

Matthew looked at him, a terrified look in his eyes. He frantically looks around and goes to grab his kit. He searches for something, but can't find it. He goes to his brother and checks his pupil dilation speed with a small flashlight he produced seemingly out of nowhere. He saw something in the lack of response, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. He uses the stethoscope again and hears the gurgling of a man drowning in his own blood. Something in him decides that he should tell them. "Al… uh… I don't think a bruise causes a man to drown in his blood…" he whispers loud enough to be heard, but still quite quiet even for his standards.

America looked at his Northern brother, tears of his own welling up and poring over. He looks to England, sadness and love shown in his sapphire eyes, a fire still burning brightly enough to be sure he's still alive. England places his hand against America's cheek, an expression of love. His hand knocks the stream of tears out of its course. The tears collect between his hand and forefinger. America coughs again, England takes his hand back. This wave of coughs take more time and energy away from the nonhuman personification. He leans back again, exhaustion showing in his already dulling eyes.

"You know, Artie, I never intended to die like this… Heh, I thought I would die protecting you. That's why I did it, you know. Why I became the hero. So I could protect you and Mattie. Maybe even that stupid Prussia, because I know Mattie would've been sad without him… I can't die… not like this… not like…" his voice fades out more and more until it was nothing but a small raspy whisper. A trickle of blood dribbles out of the small corner of his mouth. England freaks out, holding Alfred's face again between his hands, and his eyes search for more life.

"You git… Don't die on me! No you can't! Not now! Alfred! Just hang on… hang on… not now… anything but now…" Arthur's tears dripped on Alfred's still bare chest. He places his face close to America's, places his lips against the other males'. One hand he feels lightly pressed on his back, too big, strong to be Matthew's, familiar with the feeling. He drew away, seeing the smeared blood, knowing there was some on his own lips. The larger man's eyes are closed, and other than the blood, there was a small smile on his lips.

Canada was simply sitting next to them, holding his brother's free hand in his lap and looking down, drips of salty water dotting his jeans and hands. Arthur cried that night. Canada put a blanket on his shoulders before he, himself, left to cry in his own home. They both cried until the sun came to greet them. They cried after that. Eventually they came to get Alfred. I took my strings from him permanently. He was dead. So were others. There will also be more. His nation somehow still lives on. Struggling through are all of the other countries that depend on him.

But I must go now. And move onto the next person. I leave my ghosts and strings everywhere. I'm on everybody. I control everything. I am God. I am Buddha.

I am fate.

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**Sorry~! D'X *dodges hit and multiple bullets***

**Review please~ Even flames~~ oh, and don't be afraid to give me a prompt. PM me if you're not sure about the pairing.**


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